


I Won't Let Go

by MissCrazyWriter321



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 06:39:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16080560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCrazyWriter321/pseuds/MissCrazyWriter321
Summary: "I'll only slow you down." When Flynn is injured in the past, Lucy is forced to choose between risking her own life, or leaving him behind.





	I Won't Let Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AgentMaryMargaretSkitz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentMaryMargaretSkitz/gifts).



> Hey, everyone! I was planning on writing some fluff today, but instead, I decided to throw this mountain of angst at you. Enjoy! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but my ideas.

They barely make it to the shelter of a nearby barn before he collapses, near dead-weight colliding with the floor. (But he's not dead, she reminds himself. He's fine. He's going to be fine. She won't-can't-consider any other alternative.)

She scans the barn for anything that could be a makeshift weapon, and settles on a shovel, leaning against the wall. It isn't much, and it won't help her long if Rittenhouse bursts in guns blazing, but it's something, at least.

With that settled, she kneels by him, taking him in. How many times he was hit, and where, she isn't quite sure. But there's so much blood she can hardly think straight. (It's been a long time since she's fainted at the sight of blood, but she thinks she might do it now.) "How can I help?" She asks, because he's the expert here. This can't be his first field injury, she reminds herself.

He blinks up at her uncertianly, as if her words aren't quite registering, but finally, he manages a single word in response: "Run."

"Run. Right, I need to get help. Um, Wyatt and Rufus are probably-" Her mind is racing, trying to calculate where she's most likely to find the other half of their team, but he shakes his head urgently, cutting her off.

"You. Run. You have to get-" He gasps, eyes shutting briefly, and she can't stop the burst of panic as she reaches for him, grabbing his shoulder. He starts, and forces out the rest of his sentence, weak and raspy. "Get back to the Lifeboat. Go home. Before-Rittenhouse."

His eyes fall shut once more, and it takes her several seconds to register what he's saying. Leave him behind? Just let him die?

"No," she snaps, alight with fury. He's just going to give up? To leave her? And he wants her to abandon him? How could he? (She can't lose him, too. Not him. Please.)

He grunts, taking several deep breaths, and she reaches out on instinct, stroking his hair. It's smeared with dirt and blood, and who knows what else, but she doesn't falter. "I-Lucy," he whispers, "please. Please, you-I'll only slow you down, and I can't-I can't make it like this. Please. I'm... I'm sorry."

A tear slips down his cheek, and she can't quite breathe. He's sorry? She desperately wants to wrap him in her arms, to hold him together by force of will alone, but she can barely find the strength to wipe his tear away. "I'm not leaving you."

"I can't lose you," he murmurs, and she shakes her head, scarcely letting him finish, voicing the truth she’s been afraid to admit for far too long.

"And I can't lose you."

Silence. His head lolls to the side, and her heart all but stops. Then, he speaks, so softly she can hardly hear him. "I love you." There's something final in his tone, calm and sure. As if he knows that she can't turn that back on him. Can't say the same back to him.

And she wishes she could. Oh, she wishes she could. But it's too soon, and she's too afraid, and she never gave herself a chance to fall for him. She could, oh so easily, but they need more time. Tears burn her eyes, threaten to fall, but she wipes them furiously away. Realizes too late that she's smeared his blood across her cheek. (Her stomach turns at the realization.)

"I-I-"

He opens his eyes, somehow impossibly tender in spite of everything. "It's alright, Lucy. Go on." He stares at her, as if trying to memorize her. Trying to imprint her face into his mind for these last moments. She presses her lips together tightly, looking away.

For a moment, she doesn't think she'll even be able to stand, but with effort, she pushes to her feet. Rises unsteadily, half-expecting her legs to collapse underneath her.

Not fair, not fair, not fair.

Forward, she orders herself, and somehow, her legs obey. She takes a step toward the open door. Another, then another. Hyper-aware of his gaze following her out, keeping watch until the last possible second. Even now, if a Rittenhouse agent charged in, he would take the shot. Would save her life, even with the last bit of his own.

What is she doing?

She stands in the doorway, frozen, a cacophony echoing in her mind. Her stomach is so twisted she can hardly walk, and her breath refuses to come evenly.

Too many people lost, in one way or another. Amy. Her mother. Her father. (Her real father, not Benjamin Cahill. That man is nothing to her, and he never will be.) Wyatt. Jessica. Rufus, temporarily. Even Noah, though that one is mostly on her.

And now, Flynn.

It isn't fair.

Rage washes over her, and the noise that leaves her isn't quite human, but she's far beyond caring. "No," she growls, whirling back to face him. Marching back to his side furiously. Her hands tremble, but she ignores them, fixing her gaze on the battered man on the floor. He looks exhausted, but firm, ready to insist with everything inside him that she-. "No," she repeats, before he can even get a word out.

She has lost too many people. She refuses to lose this one.

"I'm not leaving you," she snaps, dropping to her knees beside him. Grabs his collar when he starts to protest, and presses her lips to his.

It's over in half a second, more a fierce claim than a true kiss. But he is hers, and she refuses to let him go. His eyes are wide and startled when she pulls away, even with his face deathly pale. She cups his cheek, traces a thumb over his nose, and shakes her head.

"I'm not leaving you," she says, softer this time, but no less determined. Holds his gaze, desperate to make him understand. "Because you and I are both getting out of this alive. We're going to get back to the bunker, a doctor is going to patch you up, and you're going to be okay."

He shakes his head, doesn't seem to have the strength to do more, and she smiles tenderly. "And then? You're going to make me dinner. And we're going to eat it in your room, and pretend it's a date. We're going to dance in front of the TV in the middle of the night, because neither of us can sleep anyway. You're going to glare at Wyatt over my shoulder, and I'm going to pretend not to notice. And..." Her heart stutters, but she forces out the words. "I'm going to get a chance to fall in love with you. Okay?"

He looks as if he's not quite sure she's speaking English, or maybe he thinks he's hallucinating from blood loss. Utter, complete, tender disbelief.

Still, he nods.

"Good." She shifts closer, resting a hand over his heart. "Good."

-

By the time Wyatt and Rufus find them, Flynn has lost consciousness completely. It takes both of them to carry him, while Lucy clings to the gun she barely knows how to use, scanning for Rittenhouse agents.

In the bunker, it's touch and go for longer than Lucy cares to remember, a chaotic swarm of shouting and beeping and panic. His heart stops at one point, and she thinks hers does as well, until they finally get it beating again. He needs a blood transfusion, and she's more surprised than she should be that Wyatt doesn't hesitate to offer.

Finally, finally, he's stable.

She shifts on the uncomfortable stool she's been on since this started, her back screaming in protest. No matter. He'd do so much more for her. She could stay here forever.

"There's nothing you can do for him," Agent Christopher says, when she stops in to check on him. "He just needs rest. Both of you do."

"I'm not leaving him." Her voice is hoarse from all of the shouting and crying she’s done, and her words lack the strength they’ve held before, but not the conviction. She means them as fiercely as ever.

"Lucy, you've been up for almost 48 hours." The older woman looks her over with the motherly stare that always makes Lucy shift in her seat. "No offense, but you look terrible." A sniff, a wince, then- "And you smell it, too. Go. Shower. Eat something." Before Lucy can find the words to protest, Agent Christopher holds up a hand. "And while you're gone, I'll get a cot moved in here, so you can get some sleep."

Very, very briefly, Lucy has the presence of mind to realize that Wyatt will probably object to that. Will probably be hurt by that. (Although maybe not; he's been oddly subdued this whole time.)

But if the alternative is leaving Flynn alone... "Okay," she whispers. "Thank you."

-

When he finally wakes, she's by his side, book in hand. (A gift from the local den mother, Agent Christopher. Truthfully, Lucy couldn't tell you half the things she's read, but it gives her something to focus on besides the worry curling around her chest, suffocating her.)

He blinks at her slowly, taking her in. "You're okay," he whispers, utterly relieved. 

That ridiculous man. That ridiculous, wonderful, precious man. Her breath catches, and she can feel tears pricking at her eyes once more. "I'm okay? You're the one who almost-" Her voice cracks, and she can't force the words out. He swallows hard, holding out his hand, and she takes it in her own. Holds it up to her lips, and presses gently.

"I-" He stares for half a second, then shakes his head. A ghost of his usual teasing smirk flickers on his face. "You are... Impossibly stubborn."

She laughs, as much out of surprise as anything, then meets his gaze steadily. "And you love me for it."

He stills. Takes a deep breath, and says, deliberately off-handed: "Well, that's... Not the only reason."

Maybe she should be afraid. The last person who told her he loved her broke her heart. But somehow, she's utterly calm. If they made it through this, they can make it through anything.

"About.. What you said..." His gaze drops, and he studies their entwined fingers. "If you didn't-if you were just-" He sighs. "I won't hold you to it."

Her heart shatters on the spot for this man, who thinks he means so little to her, and she presses another kiss to his hand, fierce and unrelenting. "Well, that's too bad," she says, with forced lightness, "because I'm holding you to it."

A cautious smile flickers on his face, and hope dances in his eyes. "Truly?"

She can’t help but smile in return, tightening her hold on his hand. "Yes. Truly."

-

It's breakfast, not dinner, and it's amazing, because of course he can cook. Rufus catches them dancing by the light of the TV, and they collapse against each other, laughing. (He slowly backs out of the room.) He and Wyatt do glare at each other, but not as often; there seems to be a grudging respect growing between the two men.

And when she falls for him, she knows without a doubt he will catch her.


End file.
